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Updated: May 9, 2025
Play awa'. I hae had a frichtsome dream. I thocht I was i' the ill place. I doobt I'm no weel. But yer fiddle aye did me gude. Play awa', father! All the night through, till the dawn of the gray morning, Falconer watched the sleeping man, all but certain that he was indeed his father. Eternities of thought passed through his mind as he watched this time by the couch, as he hoped, of a new birth.
"I'll no du that, Grizzie; but come ye an' luik at him," said the laird, "an' tell me what ye think. I makna a doobt he's deid, but gien ye hae ony, we'll du what we can; an' we'll sit up wi' the corp thegither, an' lat yoong an' auld tak the rist they hae mair need o' nor the likes o' you an' me." It was a proud moment in Grizzle's life, one never forgotten, when the laird addressed her thus.
She did not run after him. 'Steenie! Steenie! she cried, 'I dinna doobt he's there, for he's a'gait; but ye ken yersel ye canna aye see him, and maybe ye wudna see him there the noo, and micht think he wasna there, and turn fleyt. Bide till we hae a licht, and I gang doon first. Steenie was persuaded, and turned and came back to her.
I budena come ower them till a young laad like yersel'. They war never said straucht oot, min' ye, but jist mintit at, like, wi' a doon draw o' the broos, an' a wee side shak o' the heid, as gien the body wad say, 'I cud tell ye gien I daur. But I doobt mysel' gien onything was kent, though muckle was mair nor suspeckit. An' whaur there 's reik, there maun be fire."
In these adornments he would walk proudly to church, leaning on the arm of his grandson. "I doobt he'll be slippin' awa some cauld nicht," said the other: "his leevin' breath's ill to get." "Ay; he has to warstle for't, puir man! Weel, he'll be missed, the blin' body! It's exterordinor hoo he's managed to live, and bring up sic a fine lad as that Malcolm o' his."
With the act the question seemed shot from her "Duv ye ca' yersel' an honest man, noo, Ma'colm?" "I ca' myself naething," answered the youth; "but I wad fain be what ye say, Miss Horn." "Ow! I dinna doobt ye wadna steal, nor yet tell lees aboot a horse: I ha'e jist come frae a sair waggin' o' tongues about ye.
I'm no to be drawn into onything 'at I dinna ken a' aboot afore-han'. I s' no tie mysel' up wi' ony promises. "Nae doobt," said Malcolm, "yer ain jeedgement's mair to ye nor my word, Girnel; but saw ye ever onything in me 'at wad justifee ye in no lippenin' to that, sae far's it gaed?" "Ow na! I'm no sayin' that, naither. But what hae ye to shaw anent the privin' o' 't?"
"And I'm some doobtfu' forbye, whether I mayna be tryin' to ripe oot the stockin' frae the wrang en' o' 't. I doobt the fau't's nae sae muckle i' my temper as i' my hert. It's mair love that I want, Tibbie. Gin I lo'ed my neebor as mysel', I cudna be sae ill-natert till him; though 'deed, whiles, I'm angry eneuch at mysel' a hantle waur nor at him." "Verra true, Thamas," answered Tibbie.
"Ay is he," answered Annie, sadly; not from jealousy, for her admiration of Alec was from afar; but as looking up from purgatorial exclusion to the paradise of Howglen, where the beautiful lady would have all Mrs Forbes, and Alec too, to herself. The old woman caught the tone, but misinterpreted it. "I doobt," she said, "he winna get ony guid at that college." "What for no?" returned Annie.
This has taen a heap o' time, an' painsfu' labour a deal mair nor some o' 's wad think it worth, I doobt! It's the w'y o' the haithens wi' their graven eemages, but what for a horsie like this, I dinna ken. Hooever, that's naither here nor there: ye didna come to me to speir hoo or what for it was made; it's what is 't made o' 's the question.
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